Behind Red Doors
by Tatau
Summary: Now and again Ray pays for sex—it's easier than some of the alternatives. One day Fraser finds out. Follow Fraser down the spiral of possessiveness and jealousy until desperation finally forces him into action. And are things even always what they seem?


_**Behind Red Doors**_

_**Author:**__ Tatau  
><em>

_**Fandom:**__ Due South_

_**Pairing:**__ Fraser/RayK_

_**Rating:**__ NC-17_

_**Words:**__ ~8.600_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Due South is the property of Alliance Atlantis. Written for fun not for profit_

_**Summary:**_ _Now and again Ray pays for sex—it's easier than some of the alternatives. But one day Fraser finds out. Follow Fraser down the spiral of possessiveness and jealousy until desperation finally forces him into action… and are things even always what they seem?_

Ray took a moment to collect himself before he entered the building. It was a modern structure, not at all hard to look at, a bit unremarkable perhaps – which was probably intended.

Funny that he should feel nervous about this. After all, it was perfectly acceptable to come here. Nothing wrong with that. It was completely Fraser's fault anyway. Working with him day in and day out, Ray had real reason to look for some stress relief.

Ray finally pushed the door open and stepped up to the reception desk.

An exceptionally beautiful woman sat behind it, smiling winningly up at him.

"Hello beautiful, how may I help you?"

Ray grinned at her. It was probably the same line every time someone entered and she still made it sound convincing.

"I got an appointment in the crimson room."

The lady looked at him as if he had exceptionally good taste. She winked.

"Ah, yes. You can go right up. He's already waiting for you. The elevators are to your right. Payment is due before you leave unless you have a membership in which case you will, of course, receive a bill."

"Okay, thanks."

Riding up to the third floor Ray mused again about the interesting concept of this building. Plainly put, it was a brothel. It was just… more… than that. People called it the Color House –for every floor had a color instead of a number and every color… well, let's just say there was a color for everyone.

Each floor one main color for a certain sexual orientation, or a fetish, a kink, a specialty.

And on each floor rows of doors in shades of the same color. Ray had no idea how big this place really was. 40 rooms? 60? Maybe 80?

You could find every dream here. You could find anyone here. It was more than a simple customer service; it was the perfect orchestration of the perfect fantasy.

Dark and violent, so that it left welts and bruises—a whole landscape of depravity; or soft and romantic, with candles and rose petals; smudged lipstick and kohl-darkened eyes, hands scratching over the rough surface of brick stone and the thrill of maybe getting caught; shivering skin, soft lips, gentle moans and sighs, whispered words, a body that felt as innocent as if it had never been touched before.

Yes, you could find everything you had ever looked for behind one of the doors here.

At first it had been simple curiosity. Someone had told him about it and it had stuck in his brain. He hadn't planned to come here at that time; not really.

You also paid an obscene amount of money –more than Ray ever spent on anything at all. But for that you could have every fantasy you had ever had.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened with a resonant 'ding'. There was a red door on the opposite side leading further, nothing else.

Ray opened the door and stepped through into the hallway and promptly collided with someone.

"Jesus! Sorry—"

"Excuse me, I'm terribly—"

"Fraser?"

"Ray?"

"Uhm…" Ray rubbed a hand over his neck. Now what the fuck did you say in these situations?

Fraser was red in the face. Aww shit… it got to be really bad when the Mountie _showed_ that he was uncomfortable with the situation. Hell, Ray wasn't comfortable with this situation. This was the last place where you wanted to meet someone you knew. This was worse than meeting in a sauna.

"I'm just—I was—" What? Going for a quick fuck? Just here by accident? Do you come here often? Come? – Oh yes, quite frequently, very pleasurable, thank you very much. Oh God. Ray clamped his mouth shut.

"Ah yes, of course." Fraser pulled on his collar and cracked his neck. "I—I'll see you tomorrow Ray."

"Yeah, sure, right. Tomorrow Frase."

Ray was unable to say anything more because his mind was stuck on one thought: If A led to B and B led to C then A led to C, too. Made perfect sense. And when he was here and Fraser was here, too, it meant that if Ray was here for a fuck then so was Fraser.

Fraser walked past him, with his neck still red and Ray took a deep breath and continued his walk along the corridor shaking his head –he stopped dead in his tracks: Wait a second! This was the red floor! – But the red floor was… well… gay.

Ray turned around with big, unbelieving eyes but Fraser had already vanished behind the door. On autopilot Ray's feet carried him the last two steps to the crimson door and he knocked without any conscious thought.

Fraser had been here for some hot male on male action. Was that supposed to make any sense? Suddenly there was a sliding scale connecting the impossible with the improbable… what was the world coming to?

The door opened in the instant of a second, revealing a tall man with dark hair and light skin.

Ray was amazed at the picture he presented. They guy just didn't look as if he sucked cock for a living.

He looked kinda normal, just your regular guy. Not like a porn star or anything. Neither too skinny nor beefed up from the gym. Nicely toned, filled out maybe. With a gorgeous smile and stunning eyes, Ray had to give him that.

Which was exactly the reason why Ray had made the appointment with him and hadn't even looked for anyone else on this floor. It made for one hell of a fantasy.

The man smiled at Ray with a knowing look, the eyes roving hungrily up and down Ray's body and Ray gulped at the intensity in those eyes before he stepped aside to let Ray enter his room.

Fraser entered his office and sat down at his desk. He should probably finish the report he had started on this morning.

He sighed and placed his head in his hands. He stood up again abruptly, walked to his closet and hung his tunic inside. He paced back and dropped back into his office chair.

Oh God.

He rubbed his hand over his face. It was none of his business. He was an independent individual. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted and… with whom he wanted.

Fraser pushed to his feet again and paced the short length of his office again. Faced with the wall he turned around to resume his pacing.

He had really no right to demand that—he was fine with it, yes, it was perfectly alright. After all, it wasn't as if he himself could have offered—but he could have, right?

He sighed again and sat back down again.

Oh God. Right at this moment, Ray was having sex.

Fraser resisted the urge to get up again.

Ray was having sex with someone else. Fraser clenched his hand to a tight fist. Ray was having sex with a man!

It made him want to tear his hair out. Ray liked women. It was the one and only essential truth, the only thing that had kept Fraser sane.

Ray didn't like men. He had been married. Therefore Fraser had been well advised to give up on any designs he might have had otherwise.

He didn't have feelings for Ray. He didn't want Ray. Neither in any romantic nor carnal capacity. Because Ray liked women.

It was safe. They were partners, they were friends. And Ray didn't sleep with men and therefore Fraser didn't act on his impulses. A led to B led to C. It made sense.

His needs had become quiet over time. Just being with Ray, spending time with him, enjoying his freely given friendship had been enough.

Because Ray didn't like men like that.

Because Ray could never have returned his feelings.

Because Ray could never have been interested, not ever.

Because there hadn't been a chance. Not even the slightest glimpse of a possibility.

Ray was having sex with another man.

Fraser got to his feet again to resume his agitated pacing. Right at this very moment, someone was touching Ray in the most intimate way. Another man was touching Ray, kissing him, giving him pleasure.

… Ray's cheeks were glowing in the softest red, like an exquisite flower… the lips bitten raw, an angry crimson against the soft, golden skin and shaking ever so slightly with every gasp that was pulled from his body…

It was unendurable. Fraser wanted to give all that to Ray.

But Ray hadn't liked men. Ray had been a happily married heterosexual man. Ray had never declared the slightest interest in other men. Ray had only dated women.

… or it was only women that Fraser knew of. Maybe Ray had had countless dates with men? Maybe Ray had been having sex with other men from the time he got divorced?

And Fraser… and… and…

…fingers that were exploring Ray's body, playing it like a musical instrument, finding every spot to make Ray moan… the places that made Ray cry out hoarsely—all coherency gone… the places that made him whimper with unfulfilled desire, sharp, white teeth biting at the full flesh of his bottom lip…

Fraser's hands were uselessly stroking over the wood of his office door, the eyes unseeing but in his mind he could see Ray and another man quite vividly.

…the gentle roll of Ray's hips against another hard body, pressed firmly against him, the sheets cool against the heated skin… a drop of sweat beaded on his throat to pool at his collar bone before it spilled over, licking a gentle trail down Ray's chest that was trembling with every touch…

He had never indicated to Ray that he might be interested in more than friendship. He had never tried to win Ray, or seduce him… flashes of images of kissing Ray, making him smile, blush, aroused… Fraser's mouth was dry.

Some other man was touching Ray's skin, making him gasp and moan. Ray's body writhing underneath someone else, his whole body aroused, straining for relief.

…Ray's skin felt hot, burning up with want and desire and Ray wet his lips, desperately trying to moisten them but every panted breath parched his throat anew… the touch of tongue to his lips teased a relieved moan out of Ray's throat… the tongue plunged into Ray's mouth as if the answers to the universe could be found there, every prayer you had ever sent sealed in one kiss with Ray shaking underneath…

Fraser bit his lip. The jealousy was nearly choking him.

…strands of hair clung to his face, pearls of sweat glistening on the naked skin… and Ray threw his head back, baring his throat and arching his back, the moan on his wet, glistening lips a sound that told of delicious torture…

He turned around and let his head rest against the door.

Ray deserved everything he wanted. If that was what Ray wanted then he was fully entitled to enjoy himself.

But Ray was paying for it—the mere thought was ridiculous. That someone like Ray—someone so full of light and charm, witty and outgoing— should have to pay for sexual services was grotesque.

Fraser was unable to stop thinking about it. Hours later when he finally got into bed the images came back to him with a vengeance.

Would Ray be shy? Fraser tried to picture him in one of the red rooms. Maybe Ray would be brazen and bold—jumping headfirst into situations as he usually did. Would they kiss? Fraser's heart beat a little quicker at the thought.

Maybe they didn't sleep with each other? Yes, maybe the man would only pleasure Ray with his hand. Ray would sit on the edge of the bed, hesitant and a little awkward, and the man would open his jeans and reach for Ray's erection that was rock hard and insistent despite his unease.

Oh, but Ray would never be satisfied by such a simple touch alone. And the man would probably not be able to resist tasting him either; Fraser knew he wouldn't be able to. He had imagined how Ray would taste like, detailed and self-torturing, thinking about how it would feel on his tongue—wondering if he would be able to take it all in.

Maybe Ray would even demand it. Trembling, Fraser's hand sneaked inside his own long johns to close around his own erection, moving up and down in a slow rhythm, enjoying the satin feel of soft skin, the small jolt that rocked his hips whenever he twisted his grip when he reached the tip. Fraser tried to smother his moan behind closed lips.

Yes, Ray would use crude words. He'd say "suck my cock"—and Fraser couldn't keep the moan in anymore, his hips thrust up into his fist and Fraser licked his own lips again, swollen with desire, chasing the phantom thought of pre-come on his tongue.

The man would flick his tongue against the head of Ray's erection and Ray's hands would close around his head, keeping him in place—forcing more of his cock inside of that tight heat.

Fraser was panting by now, open mouthed, trying to keep quiet as if the slightest sound might alert the neighbors to what he was doing—oh God, masturbating in the Canadian consulate. He just couldn't help it.

Fraser's hip set a frantic rhythm now, pumping up into his fist with his teeth clenched to keep from shouting.

"Ray… Ray… come, Ray, please, I want…"

Ray's legs would tremble and he would push the head down further onto his erection when his orgasm ripped through him; forcing that tongue to swallow everything, lick it up to the last drop and Fraser could almost taste it… God… the need was so intense. His climax washed over him with the force of a tidal wave, he felt come splattering his chest and all he could think of was Ray and that stranger and how the man would zip Ray up again and maybe kiss him again, forcing his tongue into his mouth, giving Ray a taste of himself and then Ray would pay and leave and…

Fraser reached for a tissue with tired fingers and half-heartedly cleaned himself. He was disgusting. He shouldn't be thinking about Ray like that. What Ray did in his spare time was nothing to him. Ray could do as he pleased.

But… the yearning was so acute Fraser could feel his throat constrict. Steady breaths, there, in… out… it was really out of his control.

It was still quite some time later until Fraser slipped into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning was a nightmare and a relief both at the same time. It was a relief because Ray was right there, Fraser could watch him and even touch him and talk to him and there was no one else, no man whispering dirty things into his ear or licking his collar bone or… bending him over… and…

"Earth to Fraser?"

"Excuse me, what were you saying?"

Ray shook his head in disappointment. "You're the numbers guy. I get the, uh, the bigger picture and you're the one keeping track of the details like dates and shoe sizes and so on. So don't let me down now," Ray wagged a finger at him in silent reprove. Ray tapped on the sheet of paper in front of him, pointing at the box that read 'Time'.

"Ah, yes. It was approximately 2:14 pm when we first made visual contact with our suspect. He moved out of our sight at 2:36 and we followed him to his apartment where he arrived around 2:50."

"Wait, wait, wait—let me write this down." Words flowed in an untidy scrawl over the sheet of paper.

Those fingers… those hands… Fraser licked his lip. Had he gripped the sheets while the man thrust into him? Had he explored every inch of skin with those fingers? Gripped the man's hair to pull him in for a kiss? Curled his hands around the other man's—

"And then?"

Fraser rubbed a knuckle over his eyebrow.

"Ah… his contact arrived at 3:15 on the dot and we moved in after they closed the deal, which was, if I recall correctly, at around 3:34. I—would you please excuse me for a second?"

Ray waved him away with a gesture saying 'sure, free country and all that' before he filled in the rest of Fraser's information.

Fraser went into the restroom and into one of the stalls. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. He couldn't do this.

Ray was acting as if nothing happened and—granted, Ray seemed a little jumpy and he had difficulties looking at Fraser for any prolonged period of time but except for that he was doing remarkably well. But Fraser couldn't stop thinking about it.

Seeing Ray… he wanted to peel Ray's shirt away and cover every bit of exposed skin with his lips, taste him and drink him in. Catch the soft golden hairs on Ray's arm underneath the satin touch of his lips and trace the shape of his muscles underneath his skin with his tongue.

He wanted to savor Ray's taste, to find out whether his shoulder tasted different than his chest.

The luxury of letting his fingers touch Ray's naked skin—with intent, to bring pleasure forth until Ray couldn't stand it anymore, writing his touch into Ray's golden skin… touching him everywhere until Ray didn't know anymore where one of them ended and the other began…

Fraser took an unsteady breath. Oh God…

Desire made his hands shake and Fraser pressed them against the cold steel of the cubicle wall. Even if Ray was interested in sexual contact with men, it didn't mean that he had any interest in Fraser… and sex alone wouldn't be enough.

…but if that was all he could get it would have to be.

Fraser took another deep breath before he moved to the row of sinks to cool his pulse with cold water.

He returned to Ray's desk where Ray was still sitting, apparently caught up in an epic battle with his report—scratched out words, flecks of whiteout in expressionistic patterns and illegible passages covered the up to now innocent sheet of paper.

Fraser's heart beat faster at the sight. It was so Ray, so very much himself in every gesture, in every word that it made Fraser… want.

Instead he held out his hand.

"Do you want me to finish this up?" He asked softly and Ray's answering groan of gratitude made the hairs on the skin of Fraser's arm stand up with electric anticipation of things yet to come—which never happened anywhere else than in Fraser's fantasy.

"God, yes." Ray moaned and shoved the report at Fraser. Fraser looked down at the messy report with a small smile on his lips. He sighed theatrically and got a new sheet of paper out to copy the information. Basically, he just wrote the thing new.

"There, all done," Fraser exclaimed a few minutes later.

Ray grinned at him and Fraser's heart skipped a beat. Had the man seen Ray smile like that? Oh God, he had probably seen much more than a simple smile. He had seen Ray open and vulnerable, the face relaxed with pleasure or drawn together with need, panting open mouthed and the eyes heavy with desire.

…did Ray's eyes change the color when he was aroused? He had such an unpredictable eye color, caught somewhere between blue and green… mostly green, but there was a blue ring around it…

"—what do you think?"

Fraser came back to the present with a start.

"Ah—yes, certainly." He had no idea what Ray had been talking about.

"Greatness."

Oh dear.

Apparently, Fraser had agreed to have lunch at one of the unhealthiest places in all of Chicago. He wanted to lecture Ray on the importance of a proper diet but Ray was making happy little sounds around his greasy food so that the words died on his tongue.

He wanted Ray to keep making those sounds… if Ray would only let him, he had a thousand ways he wanted to try and—there was a little crumb of food right at the corner of Ray's mouth and Fraser cracked his neck from the sheer effort of keeping his tongue inside and his hands away.

All the things he had never allowed himself to think about were ever present now. He couldn't make the thoughts vanish no matter how hard he tried to think of snow and the calming thunder of thousands of Caribou galloping over the plains.

All he could see was Ray stretched out on a bed and another man kneeling above him. He could see Ray spreading his legs for the stranger. He could see the expression on Ray's face when the other man entered him.

Fraser broke the pencil with which he was trying to fill out his daily report in half. It was already the second one.

The next morning Ray greeted him in a washed out T-Shirt… a T-Shirt that was woefully inapt at hiding the bruised looking, purple-red spot at the base of his throat, right where the shoulder began.

Fraser stared at it so hard he didn't even realize he had bitten his own tongue until he tasted blood. Ray looked slightly uncomfortable under the close scrutiny until he realized what Fraser was staring at.

He blushed and shifted his weight onto his other foot.

"I—I was—it's just…" Ray shrugged a little embarrassed.

For the rest of the day Fraser stared at the hickey on Ray's throat as if he could still make out the lips of the stranger, sucking hungrily on the warm skin, Ray's head thrown back and a moan leaving his lips with all the desperation of someone being brought back to life.

Maybe Ray had been naked when the man had set to work. And Ray had been helpless and turned on and the man had jerked him off, sweetly and teasingly while his lips and teeth had bruised the tender skin and—

Ray cleared his throat uncomfortably, his face bright red. Fraser shook his head and snapped out of his fantasy. "What do you say? We go and check out those leads on the Warren case?"

And they had left and Ray had shrugged on his jacket and didn't remove it again for the rest of their shift.

Fraser was deeply embarrassed. The guilt gnawed at him almost constantly but… he knew it was irrational. Ray could have whomever he wanted to as a sex partner.

Jealousy was an extremely irrational emotion and Fraser had thought himself well above it. He had never been this consumed by it no matter how promising Ray's dates with other women had looked.

Yes, he did have a difficult time when Ray had been so obviously smitten with Mrs. Russell but the whole matter was over in a matter of days and it hadn't led to more than one kiss so… there simply hadn't been the time and the reason to be jealous.

And it had been the way it should have been. Ray should have fallen in love with a beautiful woman and married her… he should have gotten the children he had always wanted with Stella Kowalski.

Fraser wouldn't have tried to keep that from Ray, he couldn't have done that. Even if that would have meant that he had to be the best man at Ray's wedding while it was slowly killing him inside. But he would have done it. For Ray.

But now Ray was interested in sex with men and maybe the children weren't that important to him anymore or he didn't want to marry again or… it didn't matter because if Ray wanted another man then… Fraser wanted to be the one allowed to try and make him happy.

And not some stranger who didn't know everything Fraser knew about Ray. Not someone Ray paid for their services.

One week passed and Fraser was slowly losing his mind. There was just no way he could ask Ray or offer… things. There wasn't a right moment to ask Ray out on a proper date no matter how hard Fraser prayed for such a moment.

Not one conversation offered itself so that Fraser could express his feelings for Ray.

And Ray was starting to get angry at Fraser—and Fraser understood that. All his staring must have given the wrong impression and by now Ray probably believed that Fraser thought less of him for availing himself of the use of paid sexual services—which wasn't the reason why Fraser was staring.

Prostitution was the oldest business and there was nothing shameful to it. But… oh it was all coming out wrong and Ray just didn't _get_ it and Fraser just couldn't say it or he was unable to find the right words that would make him understand.

Fraser was lost and getting more lost by the second. It was a runaway train that he couldn't stop. It was now the end of their shift, one week since their fateful meeting and Fraser was trying to make amends – or maybe finally find the opportunity to declare himself.

"Ray, I—would you like to accompany me for dinner?" His voice was pleading, trying so hard to convey how very sorry he was and Ray was looking hard at him as if he was looking for something specific in Fraser's face.

"Love to but… I can't." Ray looked like he regretted it, too. "Hey, we could meet up later? Say 9?"

It was straw and Fraser was reaching for everything he could get.

"Yes, that would be lovely. We could—I could come over? There's a hockey game on tonight if you'd like to watch it?"

"Greatness. Come on, I'll drop you off on the way."

As soon as Ray had left him standing in front of the consulate Fraser developed a sinking feeling in his gut.

It was exactly a week to the day. Ray had an appointment after his shift, something he needed to do in the evening. Fraser gasped for breath and Dief woofed questioningly next to him.

"I'm—I'm alright."

But he wasn't. Ray was going back to the red room. Maybe Ray did this every week? And Fraser tried to think back, tried to remember if Ray had always been busy on Wednesday evenings? But he couldn't be sure and… Oh Ray…

Fraser sat in the consulate kitchen, staring unseeing into his cup of tea while the hours dragged by in exaggerated slowness.

Ray had probably gone home and showered first. They couldn't be meeting for hours, could they?

What if they had sex more than once? Maybe the other guy brought Ray to the brink of climax again and again until Ray was crazy with it… maybe Ray wanted to take things slowly, and he would suck the man's cock with abandon, making hungry sounds, like someone starving for it and the man would be panting for more and Ray's lips would be stretched around the erection, his tongue so very hot… that sinfully wet mouth… Ray's gorgeous lips with the dirty grins and the cheeky smiles…

Fraser gripped his cup more forceful than strictly necessary.

…what if Ray went there for the illusion of love and the man would be gentle and caring? Making love to him slowly, cherishing Ray, kissing him again and again until Ray's lips were red from it?

Fraser stood up and took his hat. It didn't matter that it was still too early. He would take the long way. If need be, he would wait in front of Ray's building.

He arrived at Ray's flat half an hour early even though he had taken both the long route and an additional detour through the park.

There was already a light on in Ray's apartment. Fraser tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He couldn't wait. Not when he knew that Ray was right there.

He crossed the street and rang the bell. The door clicked open and Fraser entered. Never had the walk up to Ray's flat felt this agonizingly long.

Ray opened the door with a surprised expression on his face.

"Hey Frase, you're kinda early. Come on in," Ray stepped back to let him enter and Fraser took in Ray's disheveled state with rising anger.

Ray looked exhausted and his clothes were rumpled but he looked happy. The emotions were constricting Fraser's throat.

He could smell fresh sweat on Ray's skin and another man's after shave. He obviously didn't have the time to shower before Fraser had shown up.

Fraser's hands were shaking. Why? Why did Ray have to go there? Why couldn't he be the one? He would do everything he could, he could be anyone Ray wanted him to be… anything just… He closed his eyes tight for a second, trying to regain control of himself.

"Frase?" Ray sounded worried and when Fraser opened his eyes he could see him no more than a foot away. "You okay there buddy?"

Oh god… did Ray call the stranger 'buddy', too? Did Ray still feel the other man's lips on his own? His taste in his mouth?

A growl escaped Fraser's tightly clenched teeth. Ray jumped a little and took a hesitant step back. The action propelled Fraser forward. He reached for Ray's hands and pressed him back, Ray's back collided with the hallway wall and Fraser pressed Ray's hands next to his body against the wall and leaned in.

A surprised gasp escaped Ray right before Fraser's lips met his. Soft, so soft, Fraser thought. Ray's lips were yielding beneath his and Fraser needed more, he pushed his tongue out, begging for entrance and Ray opened right up, letting Fraser explore his mouth.

Fraser couldn't quite keep the moan inside. He wanted to keep on kissing Ray for as long as it took Ray to forget about the taste of the other man. He wanted Ray to be able to taste no one else but him.

Ray started panting under the onslaught. He broke the kiss, gasping, "Frase… Jesus… Fraser," and Fraser released Ray's hands to pull his face close again, worrying Ray's full bottom lip gently between sharp teeth and Ray groaned, the knees buckling under him but Fraser kept him up, his tongue licking inside again to feel Ray's again. Ray sunk his fingers into Fraser's hair. He couldn't get enough. He could never get enough of this. A lifetime of this wouldn't be enough.

"Please," Fraser whispered against Ray's lips, desperation clinging to his voice, and Fraser kissed him again deeply, before saying "let it be me" very, very softly and Ray couldn't say anything because Fraser was still kissing him, his hands holding his face softly in place, the thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones and all Ray could do was hold on.

Ray's fantasy didn't hold a candle to this.

Ray's hands came up to roam over Fraser's broad back and Fraser gasped softly and deepened the kiss further.

He broke away, gasping for breath. "Please," he murmured again and Ray nodded helplessly.

"Yeah…"

Fraser felt relief flooding him, he could touch Ray, he was allowed to explore his body, he—he wanted everything all at once. With a growl his fingers dipped under the hem of Ray's shirt to lift it above his head and Ray helped get it off and there was no restraint left. Fraser fingers danced over Ray's skin, making Ray shiver and Fraser's gaze was hooked to the spot where you could still make out the faint traces of an old hickey if you knew where to look.

Ray moaned when he noticed Fraser's stare and bared his throat, giving Fraser better access and the next instant Fraser's lips were attached to that little innocent patch of skin, licking and biting at it, removing every trace of someone else's touch.

"Frase…" Ray moaned, his fingers gripping Fraser's hair and Fraser's lips closed around the skin and he sucked, drawing a moan from Ray and he continued to suck, flicking his tongue against the heated skin at the same time until Ray was panting and when Fraser finally released Ray there was a dark, purple mark right where the other one had been.

Ray opened his eyes slowly and he licked his lips. Fraser moved a step closer again, pressing himself flush against Ray's naked chest and he kissed him again, entangling their tongues and roving his hands all over Ray's body, replacing every other touch with his own fingers. He licked at Ray's jaw, tasting the salty hint of sweat.

He dropped to his knees then; unbuttoning Ray's pants and Ray looked down at him with wonder in his eyes. "I didn't know… I had no idea…" Ray murmured and Fraser closed his eyes tight and pressed his face against Ray's boxers, inhaling deeply and Ray's breathing stuttered.

Fraser pulled down the boxers and gave Ray's cock an experimental lick.

"Oh god…" Ray's raspy voice moaned above him and a feeling very much like accomplishment washed over Fraser.

He leaned in to swallow Ray down, trying to wrap his tongue around it but it just wasn't possible to take it all in and for a moment Fraser couldn't help but wonder if the stranger behind the red door had been able to take him all the way in.

But then Ray's fingers came to rest on his head, moving gently through his hair and Fraser wrapped his hand around the base and sucked again—but Ray didn't start to push into his mouth like he had imagined he would.

Instead Ray's fingers were tangling carefully in his hair and his lips formed the same words again and again, thick with need, "Fraser… oh… God, Fraser…" – it was a power-trip like nothing Fraser had ever experienced. He pushed his tongue against the vein, trying to get more of Ray's taste, hollowing his cheeks and pressing his nose as close to his fist as he could, taking more in than he had at first been able to.

Ray started pulling on his hair. "Frase—stop—stop-you gotta—" But Fraser didn't want to stop. Fraser wanted Ray to lose control.

But Ray pulled his head away almost roughly so Ray's cock slipped between his lips in one smooth slide until only the tip remained on his tongue.

He looked up and Ray's eyes met his. The image was so shockingly erotic, such a dirty picture for someone looking as innocent as Fraser—on his knees, still tonguing the head of his cock, really only waiting for the money shot— that Ray had to reach down and grip the base of his cock tightly to keep from shooting his load right then and there. The metal of his ball chain bracelet glinted against his skin.

"Fraser…" Ray's voice cracked.

Fraser couldn't quite hide the satisfied smirk that blossomed on his lips when he drew his tongue one final time over Ray's cock and pressed a kiss to the tip.

Ray groaned before he collapsed to his knees in front of Fraser.

"You—" he growled before he lunged at Fraser, his hands pulling at Fraser's serge before he kissed him with all the urgency he felt.

"Get yourself undressed," Ray murmured between kisses and Fraser hastened to obey. He straightened up to get his pants off and Ray stood up and leaned back against the wall.

Fraser hesitated when he came to his own underwear.

Ray grinned at him.

"Everything, Benton-Buddy."

Fraser blushed a little, adding a soft red hue to his cheekbones before removing the last item of clothing. He stood before Ray, unsure of his reaction.

Ray smiled at him.

"Jesus you're beautiful… come 'ere," he said in a husky voice.

Fraser pushed forward then, pulling Ray into his arms before he reached down to lift him up. Ray grunted with surprise but Fraser had him, pressing him firmly against the wall again.

Ray wrapped his legs around the small of Fraser's back, his arm slung across Fraser's neck and he pulled him in for another kiss.

"You know," he panted conversationally, "I have a perfectly fine bedroom."

Fraser moaned and nipped at his throat.

"Believe it or not," Ray gasped when Fraser painted a wet stripe with his tongue down his shoulder, "I even own a bed."

Fraser's grip tightened and he carried Ray to the bedroom. Once he reached the bed he leaned slowly forward, dropping Ray onto the bed and covering him with his own body.

"Yes—" Ray hissed and pulled Fraser tightly against him.

Suddenly, Fraser was everywhere. Licking the grove of Ray's elbow – and what kind of weird place was that to focus on anyway – and fingers stroking slowly up his thighs, then the mouth wandered to his chest and focused on his nipples, his naval, every inch it could reach, sucking and licking and kissing and Ray could feel the heat pulsing through his blood.

"Could— _turn around Ray_," Fraser said – in a voice that brooked no argument and it was driving Ray _insane._ It was like trying to resist a wildfire. You might have the determination to do it and you might even possess the technique to try—but ultimately? If it wanted to consume you, until all that was left were smoldering ashes, it did. So Ray turned around and Fraser continued his journey along his back, kissing the dip between his shoulder blades, licking a trail down along his spine and Fraser was leaning over him and—

"Fraser—" Ray's voice had an edge of desperation to it, "I swear if you don't stop teasing I'm gonna combust."

Fraser growled and pressed Ray close to him. Ray moaned helplessly. "Draw—" Ray swallowed thickly, "drawer… bedside drawer" and Fraser's touch left him for a second to follow his direction.

A second later Fraser dropped the bottle of lube onto the bed.

Fraser's lips pulled into a snarl—the inherent battle plainly visible in every line on his face, the need to possess Ray and the fear of hurting him, of doing something Ray didn't want—until he managed to force out the words.

"Are – you – sure?" he bit through the words, each word clearly enunciated but he sounded a microsecond away from snapping and Ray hadn't thought it possible that you could even push Fraser that far.

"Dammit Fraser! While I'm still young!"

It wasn't humanly possible to be so damn quick but before Ray had even managed to finish his sentence Fraser's fingers were back on his skin, spreading his cheeks slightly to spread the cool lube around his hole.

Ray gasped and spread his legs further. "Yes—_ah_, yes… Fraser—" and Fraser's first finger pushed in, penetrating him slowly and Ray bit his lip, waiting for more and it seemed as if Fraser's patience was running a bit thin because Ray could hear him breath heavily and a second finger was quick to join the first.

"Did he touch you like that?" Fraser's voice sounded strangled.

Fraser spread his fingers and Ray pushed back, moaning helplessly. This was just what he needed, only— "_More_," he groaned and Fraser bit his lip and added a third finger.

"Did he say 'I want to _fuck_ you' Ray?" The expletive was hissed into Ray's ear and caused a full body shiver the way it fell from Fraser's lips like a vow for violence.

"_Yes_—come on, Fraser… please—" Ray was so far gone, Fraser's fingers had found that little bundle of nerves inside that made him feel like coming. He pushed back, trying to egg Fraser on.

"Did you beg him for it, too?" Fraser voice sounded like velvet. Ray had no idea what the hell he was rambling on about but it wasn't exactly his top priority at the moment. People said the weirdest stuff during sex.

"Fraser—" Ray gasped brokenly, "fuck me already—come _on_!"

Fraser bit his shoulder in answer and Ray arched back. He felt Fraser's finger leave him and tried to regain his breathing when he felt the tip of Fraser's cock press against his entrance.

"God—_yes_—" Ray moaned and pushed back. Fraser moved in slowly, inch by inch until he was completely inside. He pulled Ray up and back against his chest and kept completely motionless.

Ray had his eyes closed, his Adam's apple bobbed when he tried to produce words. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Good… so… good…" He whispered. "I can—I can feel you… God—so deep…"

Fraser's hand sneaked around to grasp his erection. Ray gasped and a drop of pre-come welled up. Fraser spread the fluid softly over the tip and Ray started shaking.

"Did he feel like that?" Fraser asked roughly, slowly jerking Ray off. Ray let his head fall back onto Fraser's shoulder, panting.

"Did he?" Fraser twisted his hand and ran his thumb over the head.

"Wha—" Ray thrust forward into Fraser's hand, helpless to stop the motion, "what the hell are you talking about?" he gasped.

"The man you met tonight." Fraser said silkily into his ear and Ray shuddered.

It didn't make any sense though.

"You mean when I—ah god—don't stop—when I—I taught Elaine's fiancé—" Ray panted for air, his hips moving fluidly with the rhythm of Fraser's hand on his cock, "t-to dance?" Ray stuttered confused.

Fraser's hand stilled. Ray groaned in frustration. He moved forward again, resting his upper body on his hands and thrust his hip back against Fraser.

Fraser moaned and snapped his hips forward. "_Yes_—come on," Ray urged.

"You mean you didn't meet him?"

Ray stifled an annoyed sigh. Trust Fraser to be the only person whose speech center was completely unimpaired by sex.

"Who?"

"The man behind the red door," Fraser pressed out between clenched teeth, his hips never stopping their movement. Ray tried to form words to convey his incredulity.

"Are you talking about Jake—ah— _God_, Fraser—" At the sound of the name Fraser pushed Ray further into the mattress, taking him deep and Ray was gasping helplessly underneath him, unable to say anything more.

Fraser was hitting his prostate now and thinking was rapidly becoming an issue here.

"Did you like it when he fucked you?" Fraser ground out, his thrusts coming hard and fast and Ray needed three tries to even form an articulate sound that wasn't a grunt or a moan and conveyed something more than _harderfuckmetakemefastergod_.

"He didn't—_God_—_more_, Fraser—oh God—please—more— he didn't fuck me—" Ray panted, moving back against Fraser's punishing thrusts, the hands fisted into the blanket just to keep him anchored to the bed, his face almost buried in the mattress, desperately gasping for air.

"I went—I went there —_Jesus_—to—" Ray 's back was already sweat soaked but Fraser's hips were moving relentless as if he could go on for days and Ray was beginning to see stars in front of him.

"_I left!_" Ray shouted with the last bit of breath left in his lungs and Fraser sank his teeth into his shoulder and slammed his hips into him again and Ray bit into the blanket to keep from shouting.

"Harder—_yes_—come on—" Ray groaned and Fraser complied, pushing in again and again and Ray was helplessly gasping for breath and he started to shake. He clenched his teeth and felt a wave of heat wash over him, he pushed back again, once, hard and came, shooting over the sheets without anyone even touching his dick and Fraser gave a muffled sob behind him and thrust in as deep as he could and slung his arm around Ray's torso again.

"Oh God…" Ray groaned a few minutes later once the black spots in front of his eyes had stopped dancing around.

Fraser pulled out carefully and wrapped his arms around Ray.

Ray started shaking his head and laughed quietly.

"I can't believe it… you fucking lunatic…"

"Ray?" Fraser asked questioningly.

"You jealous freak," Ray exclaimed in disbelief. "And here I thought you sanctimonious prick wanted me to feel guilty! –and yeah, I get to use the big words, too, when I want to. You don't have the copyright on those." He turned around in Fraser's arms to look at him.

"Excuse me?" Fraser frowned. "From what did you infer that I'm being sanctimonious?" Fraser sounded honestly confused.

"Oh come on—I wasn't the only one at the Color House. So don't tell me you didn't go there to screw?"

"I didn't." Fraser pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh dear. I can see how you must've come to this conclusion—at the time I hadn't thought about my own presence there but put like this it should have been obvious that—"

"Fraser! Just spit it out!"

Fraser smoothed a knuckle over his eyebrow.

"You might remember that the soup kitchen I help out at now and again isn't far from there. I was on my way home when I saw a man on his cigarette break outside of the building. He was looking through a stack of papers and one envelope escaped him. I called out but he didn't notice and by the time I had crossed the street and picked up the letter he had already returned inside."

A look of resignation came over Ray's face; he knew what was coming next.

" I went to the receptionist and showed her the letter—she—well, I didn't know what kind of business it was at that time—but she smiled at me and advised me to bring it back to Matthew in person, that he would never forgive her if he wasn't able to meet me himself," Fraser blushed and rubbed his eyebrow before he continued.

"She told me to take the elevator to the red floor and to knock on the orange door. You must think me terribly naïve but I still didn't understand the concept of the building, even though she told me that 'red' was the gay floor and then she winked at me. I thought it was a euphemism—well, until the man I was looking for opened his door that is. I'm afraid, it all made perfect sense then." Fraser cleared his throat slightly uncomfortable.

Ray was torn between laughing and anger.

"Then why did you go all tense on me when you didn't even _do_ anything?"

"I—ah—" He cracked his neck.

Ray's eyes widened. "Out with it!"

"Well, Matthew was indeed very glad that I brought him the letter back personally…that is, he offered me a few of his… services… quite enthusiastically and in rather direct fashion in order to thank me. I declined politely but he had been quite… eloquent in his description," Fraser admitted quietly.

Ray looked stricken. "The crazy thing is I believe you." He rubbed a hand over his face. "God, I feel ten times of stupid. How could I think _you_, of all people,"— apparently being Benton Fraser was already enough of an explanation in itself— "would… you know," he made a dirty gesture with his hand and Fraser cleared his throat.

"Ah, Ray, I am not entirely blameless. I did nothing to relieve you of your misapprehension. However, I hadn't considered my own involvement since I, well—"

"Since you were so busy being jealous of a hooker, yeah, believe me, I got that message loud and clear," Ray smirked at Fraser.

Fraser sighed unhappily. "I'm terribly sorry Ray," Fraser's voice sounded low. "I know that I have no right to make any demands—and I'm certainly not trying to impose any rules on your personal life," he hastened to add, "but I would—I mean," he rubbed over his eyebrow, he cracked his neck and licked his lips in quick succession and Ray's face, that had pulled into a confused frown, started to clear up again, and there was a smile playing around the corner of his mouth.

"I know that having the same sexual interest isn't enough to build a relationship on," Fraser pressed on with a determined expression on his earnest face.

"But I want you to believe me when I tell you that it's much more than a feeling of attraction on my part, that attraction is altogether insufficient to describe the measure of my emotional commitment to you, and if—if you'll have me, that is, if you could consider myself, I'd be, well, I'd try—" Fraser paused again, unhappily, and rubbed over his eyebrow in a frustrated gesture.

"Emotional commitment?" Ray laughed quietly.

Ray moved onto his knees in one smooth movement and pulled Fraser's hands away from his eyebrow. He pressed his lips against the much abused brow before he claimed Fraser's lips for a kiss.

Fraser's hands came instantly up to hold his face in place but Ray pulled back gently. His eyes were smiling and it seemed to take him an incredibly effort to contain his grin.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

Fraser frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

Ray rolled his eyes and gave Fraser his best see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with-all-the-time look.

"It's always been you, Frase. The whole fucking time. The guy behind the red door could be your damn brother for all the similarities—believe me, there's no one else. "

Fraser's eyes widened comically and Ray couldn't keep the grin in any longer.

"But the—there was the mark on your throat and you knew his name, I don't see—"

Ray sighed. "No, you really don't see. It was my first time there." Fraser eyes widened. "I don't know his name… Jake's just the name you can book him by. And I—I couldn't stop thinking about you, about seeing you in the hallway and thinking what if—what if you… you know?" Ray smiled ruefully.

"I just didn't know I had a chance. Had I known… hell, I would've given it a shot ages ago. So I left right when things started going, before anything happened."

Ray's expression changed rapidly from euphoria to surprise to realization to defense to resignation when Fraser pounced, before Ray was pinned down to the bed, a hot tongue in his mouth and a very insisting Mountie on top of him.

When Fraser released his lips again Ray chuckled breathlessly.

"You're really something else Fraser." He shook his head and moved to sit up and Fraser – not knowing where this particular conversation was going – let him move into an upright position.

Ray focused his look on Fraser's face and considered him seriously for a moment.

"Let me get one thing straight," Ray pressed his lips together in a firm line and Fraser tried to steel himself for the well earned reprimand that was coming next.

"If you fuck like that when you're out of your mind with jealously—" and Fraser nodded instantly in apology when he saw the glint in Ray's eyes, trying to affirm whatever condition Ray might set down for him, "Then I really can't wait for you to get mad. The sex got to be spectacular."

Fraser opened his mouth to tell Ray how sorry he was, that he was going to work on his issues, that—come again?

"Ray!" Fraser exclaimed shocked.

Ray cackled and got out of bed. "Are you joining me for a shower Benton-buddy?"

Fraser was out of the bed in a second. He reached out and pulled Ray close against his body.

"Ray…" Fraser growled dangerously and Ray shuddered. "Hell, yeah…"

The green-eyed monster in Fraser's chest was purring contently. Sated for now.

**The End**


End file.
